The Watchers of the Night
by ChickWalker2000
Summary: Heyes and the Kid return to Devil's Hole. This story follows 'Columbine' and takes place during The Pilot, between the chase by the Posse and Kid and Heyes' arrival in Porterville.


_Heyes and the Kid return to Devil's Hole; this is their world ,their home; they feel safe here. Now they're thinking of leaving it behind forever, for a new life of which they know nothing... _

_This story follows on from Columbine and takes place during the Pilot, between the chase by the Posse and the boys arrival in Porterville._

**WATCHERS OF THE NIGHT**

_"By Kismet and our own powers, more's the pity. I have dreamed of a good deal."** Rudyard Kipling - The Light That Failed**_

Hard, cold sunlight hit his eyes. He was awake in a heartbeat, hand flying to his gun which was laying on the table beside him as it always did when he slept.

There was no movement in the room; the only sound that of the birds chattering and whistling their dawn good mornings. He sat up and looked around, a little confused and shaken, still uncertain where he was. He'd woken too suddenly out of a dream of posses pounding at his heels, bullets screaming past his ears - bullets that came way too close to hitting their mark. Memories came flooding in; of a hard-fought chase peppered through like buckshot with other half-forgotten terrors; of torture and beatings, a noose around his neck and the fear of death.

He was still trembling slightly, sweating, breathing hard as he looked around the familiar room, slowly coming back to himself as he took in the well-known sights, sounds and smells of home. Relaxing some then - at least, as much as he ever did - he lay back down on soft pillows and cast his mind back over the past five days.

Posse'd run them down six hours north of Columbine in the Elk Head Mountains where they'd been trying to open that darn Brooker safe. Pushed it off of a mountain twice and never so much as scratched her paint. If only they could have got her to a safer place, he could have got her open... couldn't he? For a moment he wasn't certain. Sure he could! It woulda taken time, though. Lot of time. Woulda been good to really get to grips with her and find out how she ticked. What they'd done to them tumblers to make em so gosh darned quiet, but time they didn't have, that posse'd tracked them real fast - hardly surprising considering the trail they'd left behind em.

He could smile about that now, and he did. But it was a pretty dumb thing to do, thinking back on it. It was just the thought of all that money going into Columbine. He'd really wanted to pay back _that_ town and no mistake. Well, guess he did at that, leaving $50,000 at the bottom of a lake for the fishes and the sand eels.

But that posse! Twenty one men! And came up on them so fast. In luck again - if they hadn't a left when they did, they'd have been on top of em 'fore they had a chance to take a second breath. 'Spect Wheat and the boys would have a few things to say to him about that when they got back.

If they got back.

They hadn't seen hide nor hair of any of them since him and Kid high tailed it out of the pass with Jake Baker on their trail. Five days and four nights of hard riding and every trick Heyes knew, and a few he invented along the way before they lost that posse, they'd stuck to their tail like a burr on a long haired dog. Kept them running till they were so tired they could barely think. Till the only thing in life was the running of the horses, the pounding of the hooves, the single minded all-out, all-embracing flight for freedom and survival.

They were both exhausted from the strain of it all as much as the exertion. He felt more than a little sick; feverish, shivering and weak as he thought about what might have happened if they'd been caught. In his nightmares, he still felt the rope Jake Baker'd put around his neck. He'd still got aches and pains. The physical scars were fading fast, but the scars on his mind would be there his whole life. They wouldn't have been caught, he decided in a moment. He couldn't - wouldn't - have let it happen to him or Kid. He'd have rode the both of them clean over a cliff and dashed out their brains on the rocks before he let that man catch up to either of them alive.

He shuddered. Fragments from his dreams flickered through his mind like the silent lightening that flashes over distant mountains. He ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes to drive the memories away, raised himself wearily and sat on the edge of the bed a while, trying to pull himself together. He was dog tired and aching with a headache spearing his skull temple to temple. He felt like he could have laid there another five days, but didn't like these grim thoughts that he couldn't seem to shake. Better to get up and do something.

He pulled his pants on over his long-johns and padded barefoot into the main room of the draughty little cabin, arms wrapped around his body against the shivering cold. Squatting down before the stove he lit some dry tinder, feeding in sticks until he was sure the fire had caught; watching with satisfaction as the bright flames settled into a warm, sustaining glow He put his damp boots down by the fire to warm, and went outside; pleased to see the good sized woodpile Kyle had built out by the porch. At least he wouldn't have to spend the morning splitting logs. He brought some of the wood in to dry by the stove that was now filling the room with cheerful, welcome heat.

Pausing to warm his cold-stiffened fingers, he took a big white pitcher outside and -skimming off the surface scum of flies, dust, leaves and dead mosquitoes - filled the jug with water from the rain barrel and stood a while, watching the world. It was comforting to lose himself in the quiet routine of cabin life. It soothed his anxious soul, helped drive out those demons still lingering from his nightmares, but the cold was pinching at his bare toes. Dodging back inside he filled the coffee pot with grounds, sugar and water and put it on the stove to boil. His socks and boots had warmed up nicely by the fire, he pulled them on and padded over to glance in at Kid.

He was still sound asleep, one hand over his face, half buried in a cocooning shroud of blankets, quilts and his battered old sheepskin coat; Heyes leaned against the door jamb and watched him awhile, sleeping so deep and dreamless and looking impossibly young and innocent. Just goes to show how wickedness and a sinful life don't always show in a man's looks, Heyes grinned to himself, closing the door quietly.

The coffee still hadn't boiled so he put on his shirt and old grey overcoat and stepped outside to take a look around. Checked out the stores, the stables, the bunkhouse - everything empty and still. None of the gang had returned, they were reduced in numbers - down to just eight since Williams and Buchannan had gone south to the silver mines. The rest of the boys were still out there somewhere. He wished they'd get back soon so's he could stop worrying and relax a little.

When he got back inside, the coffee pot was steaming fit to bust. He poured himself a cup, took it outside to the porch and sat down on the rocker to catch the early morning sun now warming the dew, shrouding the grass and rocks in a low, swirling mist. The golden beams caught the dead, dry branches of the pines, firing them up with amber and gold like they were ablaze. The air was crisp and fresh with a warning of frost stinging at his nostrils. The aspens were already half yellow, the quivering leaves would soon be falling. Before they knew it, winter would be on them. They'd soon have to decide whether they'd see the season out here, or chance leaving the mountain for riskier, but more comfortable lodgings in some mining camp or small town.

He looked down into the valley. Thousands of feet below; the tall, dark pines stacked up against the shadowed slopes like black matchsticks. Beyond them, the distant peaks of snow covered mountains lit yellow as summer butter by the early morning sun so warm and delicious, he sat and breathed it all in, all around, for miles around; not a sign, not a sound of a voice nor an axe nor a whiff of smoke showed sign of human life; not as far as the eye could see. And Heyes loved it. Some folks said the Hole was ugly; he joked about it himself to newcomers, "If the place was any prettier it might attract the decent element." But really, he loved this remote spot. He never felt so free, so at ease as he did up here. His heart soared when he rode down the rocky path to see those ugly, clapped out cabins by the big old waterfall. They were the only times in his whole adult life he'd truly felt that he was home.

He leaned back in his chair with a happy smile, sipping at the acid, muddy brew he chose to call coffee and put one hand to warm in the pocket of his coat - found a paper screwed up in there and took it out to have a look.

'Amnesty Offer...' he read.

Heyes smiled to himself. As if the Governor would give them amnesty! What would they be wanting with an amnesty anyway? They were the best, the most successful, the most famous outlaws in the west. Worth ten thousand dollars apiece. Made them the most wanted men in the territory - and beyond. Which made them the most hunted. The most pursued...

Heyes drained the coffee from his cup.

He knew what some of the older boys were saying was true - times were changing. Heyes was only just turned thirty but his long experience in this game sometimes made him feel like an old timer. Truth was, the glory days of outlawing were done. The safes were getting harder and harder to crack. The posses were getting bigger, smarter, more determined. The modern world of fast communications, technology, civilisation - it was making things too hard, even for a clever and resourceful thief like himself. How much longer could they go on living this life? How much longer could they go on living? It was only a matter of time before someone would catch up to them. Only a matter of time 'fore they got themselves killed.

He remembered saying to Kid, way back, when they first started out; "this life only ends one way." And how they'd laughed about it. Hell, they were young and healthy and way smarter than the sheriffs, the bankers and the railroad men they'd targetted right from the start. Now, with middle age staring them in the face, it didn't seem so funny somehow.

"Cold out here..."

Heyes jumped, startled. He'd been so deep in thought he hadn't heard Kid come up behind him. Maybe he _was_ getting old. He quickly stuffed the flyer back in his pocket and affected a nonchalant, happy smile for his partner. Kid sat down in the chair beside him. He had a week's golden bristles darkening his boyish face. His blonde curly hair stuck up at the side, giving him a goofy look that made Heyes smile. His heart filled with tenderness for his best - his only - friend.

Kid held a cup of coffee that he sipped reluctantly.

"Heyes, did I ever tell you you make the worst darned cup of coffee west of the Mississippi?"

"Many times."

"You won't be offended now if I ditch this and make some fresh? Second thoughts, we need something to kill the rattlesnakes."

Heyes grinned. He did make a gosh awful cup of coffee. Didn't know why. He did everything just the same as anyone else would, it just never came out right.

"I guess no one can be good at everything, Kid," he smiled.

But Kid made no move to get up. He just sat there, nursing his cup, looking out at the view. He looked awful thin and tired, Heyes thought...

When Kid said (as if he'd read his mind); "Heyes, I'm so hungry. There anything to eat?"

"Not a lot," Heyes sighed. "There's some beans, lots of corn in the store. Plenty of coffee, not a whole lot of sugar."

"That all?"

"Pretty much."

"Sheeehssh!" Kid sighed. "Well, what we gonna do 'bout that?"

"Eat corn fritters, corn bread, corn mush, johnnycake..."

"Heyes, now you're scaring me. Sounds like winter in Kansas. Dried pumpkin, sauerkraut and hasty pudding. You sure you ain't brewin up some Sassyfras tea to keep the fever away?"

Heyes laughed.

They sat together then; still and silent and lost in thought a good long while.

Kid looked out over the valley to the mountains - it sure was a pretty view. He was gonna miss it.

Oh, he did his share of griping and complaining when they had to sleep out in the rain, when there wasn't enough to eat, when there was extra work to be done cos Heyes was too busy thinking; when he was planning a job and being irritable and ornery and spoiling for a fight. Till he found what he was looking for, then he'd wake up one morning with it all sorted out in that head of his, a big grin on his face, cracking stupid jokes and gigglin' to himself, his mood as sweet as honeysuckle and honey. They both thrived on this raw life with it's thrills and freedom and danger. Could they really leave it all behind to live like normal folks?

"It's really cold," Kid said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

"Uh huh."

"Soon be winter."

"Uh huh."

"What we gonna do Heyes?"

"What you wanna do Kid?"

Kid shrugged. "Sleep for a thousand years. Wish I was a bear, could hunker down in a snug warm cave and just sleep till winters over. I wish there was something good to eat."

"We could go shooting..."

"We?" Kid glared at him, a smile playing in his eyes.

Heyes shrugged, poker faced. "There's wild turkeys, antelope..."

"You volunteering to go shoot these critters, Heyes?"

"You want me to?"

"Yes, I want you to."

Heyes grinned. "Well that's OK by me 'cos, you know, I was the champeen tracker..."

"In all of southern Utah, yeah. I heard that story. Don't believe a word of it. I guess I better shoot us some game, if we ain't gonna starve to death. You can stick to picking huckleberries..."

"Hey, there's bears down by that river!" Heyes grinned. "I'll need you to keep lookout..."

Kid laughed. "Reckon you're gonna havta deal with them bears all by yourself Heyes. I'm gonna be too busy clearin the cabin of wildlife. The store's full of rats and the roof's infested with rattlesnakes. Reckon we gotta deal with that before winter comes. Don't want them coming down to warm themselves by the stove or in our beds like they did last year."

"If we could get us one fat mountain deer, we could dry the meat - last us all winter long..."

Kid pulled a face. "A winter of cornmeal and jerky don't exactly fill me with joyous anticipation, Heyes."

"Well," Heyes sighed and stretched. "Can't say I'm too happy either Kid, but we gotta make the best of the situation."

Kid sighed. "Winters coming. You know what winters are like here and once the snow comes, we won't have the option of leaving till the thaw. And I never knew a cabin as drafty as this one".

"It is a mite airy," Heyes conceded with a smile.

"When the winds blow..." Kid shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. "Remember last year. You had to put a blanket over your head to keep the snow from flittering down on your book..."

"Guess the answer to that is to go fix the roof."

"What with? Ain't any tar paper. You planning on spending the next few weeks cutting shingles? Ain't enough fuel for the stove neither. Gonna take weeks to fill that woodstore..."

"Are you saying you don't wanna winter in the hole?" Heyes asked him. "Cos we ain't got enough money to go to Denver or San Francisco."

"How much is left from that Rawlins job?"

"Just about enough to see us through to Christmas in a small town. You know what that means. All them cowboys, drifters and saddletramps coming in to warm their heels in the saloon. What are the chances someone's gonna recognise us? Some drunken idiot who wants to chance his arm 'gainst Kid Curry?

"No, reckon we're better off here. At least we're safe. We can sleep long as we like, all day if we wanna. We got food, a stove, a whole forest full of wood. Don't know bout you Kid, but I sure could do with the rest. Maybe I'll come up with the idea for a new job restin' up here cause I'm about busted out and fit to drop. I don't think I got the energy for a winter watching over my shoulder down in Pearl or Silver City."

Kid blew out his cheeks in a mighty sigh. "I can't help thinking 'bout that fifty thousand dollars lying at the bottom of Larson Lake. What you gonna do bout these new safes Heyes?"

"Well I guess I'll just have to learn how to crack em."

"You can do that?"

"I done it with every new one they've thrown at us yet." He laughed at the serious look on his partner's face. "What's the matter Kid? You losing faith in me?"

Kid shook his head with a quiet smile.

"Ain't no such thing as a safe that can't be cracked, Kid. Only a safe I haven't worked out yet. I just need to get some information is all, find out what they've done to make them tumblers so quiet!"

Kid watched him turning those thoughts over in his head. How Heyes loved to play with a safe! Hear the happy sound of a tumbler falling snugly into place, hearing the last one go, turning the handle and feeling that big old door open. Damn the money! It was opening those doors that gave Heyes his reason for life - though the money was pretty good too.

Kid watched his partner with affection. He'd got that wild, happy look in those deep, dark eyes of his. His brain was flying off someplace right now, working up fresh schemes, new plans. The Big One that was going to make them rich beyond their wildest dreams... 'cept it never did. No matter how much money they stole they never seemed to have any. It slipped through their fingers like dry desert sand, spent on horses and saddles that got abandoned when they were trying to lose someone, or fancy new clothes that always seemed to end up left in some hotel room when they had to skip town in a big hurry. Course, most of the money went on simple pleasures, Poker, whiskey, women, a few nights in a smart hotel, some good dinners, plain old generosity. Kid sometimes thought Heyes planned it that way. Didn't want to be rich 'cause, if they were, they'd have to leave this life behind and go live in luxury someplace like Europe or South America. That would kill both of them in a very short time. Him an' Heyes thrived on this life - the thrill of planning and executing a job, outwitting every lawman in the land, staying one step ahead of the posse...

But not every posse. They'd had a good too many narrow escapes lately. Especially this last one.

Kid was against the Columbine job from the start and felt all to blame when it went wrong 'cause it was him put the idea in Heyes' head in the first place. He shoulda known the lure of that massive payroll, and the thoughts of paying back _that_ town and _that_ sheriff would eat at Heyes like a belly full of worms, he knew all that had happened to Heyes in Columbine. Heyes had said next to nothing about his ordeal, but Kid saw the reports in the newspaper that Lobo'd had got a hold of, that they hid from Heyes while he rested and slept and tried to heal up. The thought of what had happened to his friend made him bone-sick and mad as all Hades. Truth was, he was as keen as his partner to pay them folks back some.

Heyes still had the marks on his body and was doing his best to hide the pain and stiffness. But Kid remembered the blind terror in his partner's bloodshot eyes as they ran from that posse. He didn't ever want to see that look in his friend's eyes again.

He glanced over at Heyes, still sitting there lost in a thousand and one different ideas, all competing with each other for his time and attention. His brain so full of notions; Kid often wondered how Heyes stood the noise of them all them spilling around in there. No wonder he never stopped talking. It all had to vent out someplace or his head would just explode from the pressure.

He stood up and stretched.

"Where you goin'?" Heyes asked him, slipping out of his reverie.

"Too cold to wash in the creek. Gonna heat some water for a bath and a shave."

Heyes nodded and wished he'd said it first. Now he'd be the one to bathe in second hand bathwater. "Well, don't hog the water too long," he said in mock annoyance. "I'd at least like it to still be a little warm when it's my turn."

Kid grinned. "We can throw our laundry in after. There's still a little of the lye soap, enough for a few shirts and underwear anyhow."

"You volunteering for laundry duty?" Heyes asked with a smirk.

"Ain't my turn!"

"Ain't your turn for fresh bathwater neither," Heyes grinned at him.

Kid sighed. "You offerin' to do the laundry if I let you take first turn in the bath with that filthy body of yours?"

"No, I said it wasn't your turn. I wasn't offerin to trade."

"What, you wanna flip a coin, Heyes?" Kid laughed. "I don't think so! You want clean water, you haul some up from the creek yourself or you take mine when I'm done. And it's your turn to wash the clothes."

"You want a little starch in your collar mister...?" Heyes called after him with a grin.

"Just don't beat holes in my underwear like you did last time," Kid called as he made his way to the water with a bucket. "I want em clean, not battered to all tarnation!"

They passed the day in mindless tasks - the dozens of things that had to be done if they were to rest easy and comfortable that night. They shared the laundry, then Heyes sewed up the hole in Kid's torn shirt - Kid was no good with a needle and thread, only ended up piercing holes all over his gun hand. Kid got a couple of rabbits, so they wouldn't have to eat beans another night. All the while Heyes was watching the pass through binoculars. Watched and worried and listened for the gang's return.

"They'll be hooraying some town, Heyes." Kid said, hoping to set his partner's mind at ease.

"How? They ain't got nothing to hooray with," Heyes replied. "No, they're out there gettin into trouble someplace. Wheat'll be mad and spoiling after that business with the safe. Prob'ly holding up some heavily armed bank somewhere..."

"Least they ain't had that posse on their tail five days. Heyes, they're OK, and if they ain't, well, it'll be their own fault and nothing we can do 'bout it. So relax, let it be."

'Relax!' Kid thought with a smile. As if Heyes ever relaxed...'

Night fell. Inside the cabin, warm with lamp and stove-light, Heyes had his nose buried in a book, but he wasn't reading. There was an edge to Kid tonight - had been all day. He couldn't quite fathom what it was but he knew Kid had something on his mind and was building up to confronting him over it. Made Heyes nervy, wondering what that 'something' might be.

"What's that you readin?" Kid asked him.

"Pickwick Papers."

"You musta read that one a thousand times."

"Uh huh. How bout you?"

"The Pearlman Examiner. Coupla weeks old, found it on Lobo's bunk..."

"Anything interesting...?"

"Story about an outlaw gang run down near Cheyenne," Kid read.

"Who? What they do?" Heyes asked, his professional curiosity alight.

"Robbed the bank in Harristown. Urmmm, Logan Pratt, Johnny Lovett..." he glanced through the list of names. "No one we know."

"Harristown? Why there? Nothing worth stealing." Heyes looked at the ceiling, considering the problem. "Shoulda been an easy job, in and out, good an quiet. Wonder what went wrong?"

"It don't say. Only that they shot a bank clerk, so they'll hang em for sure. Eldest of em's only sixteen." He shook his head sorrowfully. "'Bout the same age we were when we was starting out," he said to Heyes, who nodded his head sadly.

"Guess things've changed a lot since we were that age, huh?" Kid said. "Sure am glad we ain't starting now".

Heyes went back to his book. Kid sat and watched the fire, but Heyes could feel the tension. He stared at the page and waited.

"What you do with it Heyes?" Kid asked eventually.

"Huh?" Heyes grunted, pretending to be absorbed in his story.

"That flyer. 'Bout the amnesty. What you do with it?"

"Hmmm? I don't know." Heyes wondered what was coming next.

Kid walked over to the door where Heyes overcoat was hung on a peg. He put his hand in the pocket and took out the piece of paper with a look of triumph.

"So this _is_ what you was reading on the porch this morning. Thought it was."

"Well, what about it?" Heyes asked, putting down the book, waiting to see where all this was leading.

Kid slumped back down in the chair by the stove, ran a hand through his hair and looked at Heyes. "Heyes, you ever think about the future?"

"Sometimes. Not a whole lot. I keep pretty busy just thinking about the here and now. Why d'you ask?"

Kid shifted in his seat, looked at the floor, tapped his knee with the rolled newspaper. Whatever was bothering him, Heyes sure wished he'd get it off of his chest so they could both relax.

"How many outlaws make it to forty? Thirty five?..."

"Kid..." _Hooo! This was gonna be a tough one... _"We knew all that when we started this 're scared of getting shot all of a sudden? We're always careful, more so than most..." _it wasn't like Kid to start worrying 'bout catching a bullet. There had to be something more to it that that... _"That's why we been so successful, everything's always planned to the last detail..."

"Sometimes planning's not enough. Look at what just happened. You couldn't open that safe. That's gonna keep on happening. Safes ain't gonna get any easier. Gonna take more and more time to crack em. Time we never do have.

"An' that posse! If we hadn'ta been lucky enought to ride out when we did they'd a been right on us. We'd a been trapped between that lake and the rocks and precious little cover. Woulda had to shoot it out against twenty one men, Heyes. Twenty one!"

"Yeah! How'd Baker get a posse that size up so fast...?"

"Heyes, that's not the point! Th'point is, it's the second big, hard riding posse that's chased us inside three months. Last time you was almost killed. Next time, maybe you will be. Or me, or any of us."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying it's time to quit, Heyes."

OK, that was unexpected. Heyes'd been expecting some big announcement, maybe that Kid wanted to leave the Hole and try for some bank or other to get them the funds for a more comfortable winter somewhere. He'd got his arguments all lined up, smooth and ready to talk him out of that one. He hadn't been expecting this at all.

"What?" he said.

"You heard me."

"_Quit?_ We're at the top of our game..."

"Yup. Only one way to go now, _down_."

Heyes snorted, he tried to laugh but his heart wasn't in it. "And what do you suggest we do if we give up?"

"Amnesty." Kid nodded with decision.

"Amnesty?" Heyes grinned in disbelief. "And tell, me, please, cause you've obviously given this a _lot_ of thought Mr Curry. How do you think the likes of us are gonna get amnesty?"

"Lom Trevors."

"Lom? What's Lom got to do with any of this? We ain't set eyes on the man for three years, not since he rode out of here saying this was no life for a man hitting thirty five..." Heyes realised what he'd said as the Kid tipped him the wink with a triumphant look.

"Hell, Kid!" Heyes turned his brightest smile, his most persuasive tone on his partner. "Lom Trevors was nothing but a small time amateur. Didn't never have more'n five hundred dollars on his head. It's one thing for a man like Lom to turn straight and get his slate wiped clean. You an' me..." he shook his head with a kind smile. "Kid, we're big league if you hadn't noticed. I can't begin to calculate how much money we've stole between us these past ten years."

"And how much of that money we got now, Heyes?" Kid asked, staring his partner right in the eye. "How much you got in your pocket right now?"

"Kid..." Heyes grinned.

"No, I'm serious. Cm'on, let's take a look. Cm'on!" he encouraged.

Heyes grin slipped a notch. "You really are serious aren't you?"

"Dead right I am."

With a shrug, Heyes put his hand in his vest pocket and counted.

"Well?"

"Thirty two dollars, in gold and bills. Some change. How bout you?

"I don't need to count. Sixty seven dollars exactly."

Heyes shrugged. "So what's your point?"

"How much we take on that Rawlins job?"

"Ah Kid..."

"How much?"

"Urm... Bout five thousand, give or take a hundred here and there."

"And we got less than a hundred dollars left between us to see out the whole winter."

"Well what are you planning on doing with this amnesty you're so all-fired set on? A little ranch work? A cattle drive maybe? We done all that Kid. That's half the reason we started robbin banks if you remember. Couldn't see no reason to get baked, froze, choked and soaked workin eighteen hours a day for twenty a month when the big cattlemen were selling those beeves for thousands and screwing the little guys, farmers, men like our pa's, into the ground, takin everything they had.

"I seem to remember you tellin me how it weren't really stealin at all seeing as how them men were just outlaws themselves the way they went about making themselves so rich and powerful. If they were gonna steal from the poor you said, how about we steal from them like we was a pair of Robin Hoods. 'Cept, as I recall, we stole from the rich and then kept the money and spent it ourselves. And we had a whole lotta fun doing it too..."

"And it ain't like that any more! Where's the fun in being chased five days by a posse Heyes? Where's the fun in looking over your shoulder every day and night of your life, wondering if today's the day you get a bullet in the back? Or a rope around your neck? Yeah, I know what happened to you in Columbine, Heyes. And it's only a matter of time now 'fore it happens again and the next time you might not be able to talk your way out."

"How'd you find out?" Heyes asked softly. He'd worn his bandanna for weeks to hide the marks round his throat.

"Plastered all over the Pearlman Examiner. Lobo seems to have a fondness for that particular publication," he said. "Eye witness report, with all the lurid details you'd expect. Heyes," his tone softened, seeing the dark thoughts crossing his friend's face as he drew a hand across his eyes. "I don't wanna see you killed. I don't wanna die either. But it's gonna happen. Things are just gettin' too hard and I just think... well, we're being offered a get out here. We should at least think about it."

"Kismet?" Heyes grinned, looking at him.

"Now you know I don't know what that means," Kid smiled.

"It means beware of little old ladies from Boston bearing flyers," Heyes sighed, standing and starting to pace the room.

This was good, Kid thought, hope starting to dawn. Heyes pacing meant Heyes thinking and Heyes thinking - though not always good - at least meant something about to happen. He leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees and gave his partner his full attention.

"So, lets assume Lom agrees to talk to the governor on our behalf..."

"He will."

"You don't know that!"

"Heyes, short of turning us in, what better way for an ambitious lawman like Lom Trevors to get himself well in with the Governor? Shutting down Heyes and Curry? The railroad men and bankers'll just love him for it."

Heyes stopped and thought about that. "What about those bankers, the railroad men, the cattlemen. They got vengeful hearts Kid, they ain't gonna be too happy about us gettin away scot free."

"Be glad to see us putting it all behind us though, huh?"

Heyes looked unconvinced. "How do we know the Governor won't double cross us? Have us arrested and put away for twenty years?"

"We don't. That's why we're using Lom as a go-between."

Heyes grinned. "You really have got this all worked out haven't you?"

"Thought of nothing else these past five days. You ain't the only one can plan and scheme, Heyes."

"And you really do wanna go ahead with this?"

Kid sighed. Truth be told, he didn't know. He had no desire to go back to being a cowboy or a ranch hand - Heyes was right about that.

"Yeah." He said eventually, looking up at Heyes, trying to read his eyes - read what was going on inside that brain of his.

Kid shrugged. "Heyes, there's a lot I'll miss about all this. And there's not a single thing I regret. But our days are numbered. I think we should get out while we still can. That's all."  
Heyes sat back down in his chair and watched out of the window at the impenetrable darkness. Sat quietly gazing a good long while.

"What will we do if the Governor says no?" he said eventually.

Kid shrugged. "Assuming Lom don't arrest us on the spot? Come back here to the Hole and carry on as before."

"Till we get shot down or hanged?"

Kid nodded. "Guess so."

"I got an alternative. We could do one big job and I mean a real big job and go down to South America..."

Kid laughed. "Again with the big job! Heyes, you know that ain't never gonna happen. We'd a spent every penny of that money inside a year. And what we gonna do in South America anyhow? No, I'd rather take my chances right here."

Heyes nodded, still looking out of the window.

"What will we do if the Governor says yes?"

"Heyes?"  
Heyes turned to look at his friend, his face unreadable. "What are we gonna do with ourselves? We ain't never led honest lives, not since we was first out of the home. We always lived by stealing and skinning folks..."

"How else were we gonna stay alive back then Heyes?"

"Don't matter why we did what we done. Fact is we done it. We don't know any other life, Kid. It's gonna be hard. Real hard, you know that."

Kid nodded gravely. "I know it."

"Well are you prepared for that? For hard work. Sunburn, saddlesores, cuts and blisters. You said yourself, we ain't getting any younger. I can't see how an honest life's gonna change that part of the equation."

"So what? You saying no, Heyes?"

"I'm saying we should sleep on it."

Kid looked at him quizzically.

"We got.., what? Maybe three, four weeks before the snow comes," Heyes said. "If we're gonna ride for Porterville, we got a couple of weeks 'fore we have to leave. Fourteen days is a good long time to think on things and come to a decision."

"You're saying we should talk to Lom? Try for amnesty?"

"No, Kid, I'm saying I think we should think about it. That's all I'm promising to do. I'll think about it."

THE END.


End file.
